


Fade Into Darkness

by b0rnbackwards



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Depression, Established Relationship, Lots of Angst, M/M, POV Alternating, Pack Feels, Scott and Allison have a baby! eventually, Suicide
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-23
Updated: 2015-01-23
Packaged: 2017-12-21 02:55:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/894961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/b0rnbackwards/pseuds/b0rnbackwards
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>“Derek,</i><br/>I tried to leave something for everyone, leave each one of them a letter, but no one else would understand. [...]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> The biggest thank you of all times for my incredible girl [Dan](http://strakiya.tumblr.com/) who happens to be, besides being a person entirely made of awesome, an incredible beta and someone who gets my writing just right like she had the freaking user guide for 'how to understand the shit luiza says'. She also gave me confidence enough to get this out in the open even as just a test (which it is, I have no idea if it's a good idea to continue this fic), so cheers to that. This fic talks about suicide and depression and that's why I rated it as mature, don't expect any smut because I don't even know if I wanna include any here. If you have any triggers just don't read it or ask a friend to do it for you beforehead. Don't say I didn't warn you. I said before, this is just a test, I have no idea how much difficult it will be to me to continue this depending on the feedback I have, so I make no promisses. I apologize for this fic already. Hope you enjoy!

_“Derek,_  
I tried to leave something for everyone, leave each one of them a letter, but no one else would understand.  
I’ve been trying, Derek. I tried for more than a year, to live with the consequences of everything I’ve done, with all the pain I’ve caused. I kept telling myself not to give up, that life is made of good things and bad things, and that I would only get the good things if I stayed alive. But I forgot that sometimes not even the best things, like you and Scott, can overcome the bad ones. And I wasn’t strong enough. Like you were. Like I need you to be now, like I know you will be now. I need you to be strong and hold everyone together; be their safe place. You’re all we have, Derek. And I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry for not being strong enough to be your safe place.  
You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me and the rest of the pack, even though we all needed some time to figure out how to be good to each other. It took a while, but once you got your shit together, no one could ask for more, cause since then you’ve been everything. And don’t you think for one second that I don’t hate myself for leaving so many awesome things like the ones we have behind. For leaving you like this. Because I do, Derek. I really do. I hate that I’m putting you all through this pain, and that it’s all going to fall on your shoulders. And I hate myself for not being strong enough for you, for not being able to let go of my sadness and frustration and... for not being the one you need on your side. I know that you need someone strong to walk as an equal to an alpha, but I’m not it, am I?  
I know I told you this before, and that it’s not an excuse, but when dad died, when I watched his life being taken away from him right in front of my eyes and because of me, I lost it, Derek.  
I killed my mom, and then I killed my dad. There’s nothing more fair than me being the one who finishes the job with the Stilinski family.  
I wish I could be strong and stay sane, mostly for you and Scott if I’m being honest, but this guilt, Derek, it hurts so bad... Guilt fucking hurts, and burns. It burns me from inside every single minute of every single day. And it tells me that the only way out is to end it. And I can’t not believe it. It's easier to believe it.  
I’m so sorry.  
Tell Scott that I love him, that there’s nothing he could’ve done to save me. I couldn’t be fixed anymore. Tell him his kids with Allison will be the cutest ever, and I already love them all. He’s the best friend anyone could ever ask for, make sure he knows that.  
Tell Erica and Lydia that I would’ve been nothing without the two most awesome badass femme fatalles in this world.  
Thank Isaac and Boyd for being the two coolest idiots who saved my life a bunch of times. For helping me out and being there for me and Scott even when we got into our little best bros cocoon and left them out of stuff.  
I fucking love all of you, okay?  
The first months will be bad, and don’t I know it. I’m just trying to make it easier for you with this, making sure you know it has nothing to do with you. Because it doesn’t. I just can’t deal with any of it anymore. I just want it to go away.  
People will talk, they will ask you stupid stuff and they will whisper terrible things about me when you’re around because they think you can’t hear it. Most of it will be true, probably, and I don’t know if I want you to listen the truth about me or if I want you to remember me like the person you think I am, I was. I just want you to know what it will be like. Being related to someone who committed suicide is complete hell.  
And, again, I hate myself that I’m putting you through it. I’m so sorry.  
I want to be buried with my parents, and I want you to sell dad’s house. I’m sure you know where to find everything you need to do it. Sell it to a family with kids, so at least someone will be able to do something good with it.  
I also want you to restore your house. Stop pushing it away. Live there with the pack for a while, maybe you’ll meet someone and have beautiful babies that will have these eyes of yours I love so much. Or maybe you will be a were-grandpa to Scott’s kids, or Erica’s. Good things are ahead of all of you, don’t let me stand between you and those things, cause you deserve them. Try and be happy, Der-bear. For me.  
I wish I could say that some day you’ll die too and you’ll go somewhere where our souls will meet, but if there’s a ‘beyond’, and if heaven and hell are there, I doubt we will end up in the same place. Don’t worry about it, though. Knowing that I’m paying for everything I’ve done, all the pain I’ve caused, gives me peace to face whatever ‘beyond’ has for me.  
I love you so much, and I’m so sorry.  
One last goodbye,  
Stiles.”  
Derek stared at the piece of paper for what seemed to be hours. He couldn’t read it again, but he couldn’t look away. Because he knew. He saw Stiles destroy himself slowly, he knew it was just a matter of time before Stiles tried the real thing. And all he did was watch it, like there was no way to do something, to fix it. He did nothing.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't even know if there are readers willing to come back to this anymore, but here it is. I Do intend to write this fic. I do. I think I just need some encouragement.  
> If you need the warnings skip to the end notes and read those before going foward with this chapter!

“Scott! Scott, focus! Scott! Breathe, Scott!”

Scott knows this is Stiles. It has to be. He takes deep breaths and they still burn his insides, but he does it anyway. His eyes open but his vision is still blurred. Well, at least they don’t feel like they are on fire anymore. That’s good, right? Right.

He tries to sit down, unsuccessfully. His lungs are on fire, he’s pretty sure. Stiles, seeing his struggle, helps him sit up with his back on the couch.

“I’m going to get you some water,” Stiles says, and Scott can hear the footsteps on floor of the apartment they’ve been sharing for almost two years. Scott is definitely going to look for a new place, he absolutely hates not having any escape routes when it comes to it, he never has anywhere to run and it is way too high for him to jump off the window.

They could get a house for the entire pack. Scott likes houses. Yes, a house was- Oh, wait! Oh my god! Stiles is back with a glass of water in hand in the exact same second Scott remembers it.

“Oh no! Stiles, Stiles!” He slapped the glass off of Stiles’ hand and pointed at the door.

“Scott what the-”

“Your dad, Stiles! I heard them saying they were going to get the sheriff! They’re after your dad!” The words barely come out, his throat is sore and hurts like hell, and his voice sounded like there were a thousand pieces of broken glass ripping his throat open from the inside.

Stiles sprints out of the apartment, and Scott… ok, he was expecting that. Because Stiles usually runs right into danger when someone’s at risk, but it would’ve been smarter to wait for Scott, because Scott knows these people are not human, and they could slash Stiles and his dad in a second. He tries to get up uselessly as he feels the burning of his body trying to neutralize the wolfsbane as Stiles’ scent fades away.

***

The entire drive to his dad’s house is a blur. All he can think about is losing his dad, watching is had being hurt. He knows he will never survive losing his father. The fact that he doesn’t know what these people want, that he doesn’t know what to do, what step to take next, it gets him angry and nervous. His surprised when he arrives his dad’s house without hitting anything and jumps out of the car with shaky hands. Getting to the front door is harder than it should be, his knees are weak and he stumbles several times before finally bursting into the house to find his father on the living room, on his knees, his face bruised and a thin trail of blood running down his temple.

“Dad!”

Dad looks up, eyes wide, and opens his mouth to say something, but closes it immediately. What did they do to his father? Stiles tries to reach him, but a hand on his chest stops him. A man in a black hood owns it, and all Stiles can see under his hood is the wicked smile on the guy’s face.

“Hello, Stiles,” another man says, coming into Stiles’ view, walking slowly until Stiles can see him completely.

“Peter? What the fuck do you want now?” Stiles hisses, fighting the man’s grip in his chest, determined to get to his father. Peter laughs and starts to say something, the bastard, but Stiles feels something hit his head and everything is black before he can pay any attention.

***

Stiles wakes up with a blurry vision and a pounding head. His eyelids are heavy, and he knows he was bleeding because he can feel the dried blood over the wound in the back of his head.

“Stiles.”

His dad’s voice seems like a magical medicine, snaping him out of his bewildered state. His vision clears and his eyes go wide, searching around for his dad. He catches sight of the sheriff beside him, tied up to a chair, and only now he notices he is too.

“Dad, are you okay?” He whispers, looking sadly at his beaten up father.

“I’m fine, son, are you okay?” The sheriff replies, voice shaky and raw.

“You’re hurt, dad,” the boy says, trying to free himself in a urge to help his father.

“I’m okay, Stiles, don’t worry. Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine, dad.”

“Are you sure? You got hit in the head, you must have a concussion.”

“Probably, but it’s not like I haven’t got hit in the head before, right? Don’t worry about it.”

“Do you know what he wants?”

“No, dad, I don’t.”

Everything is silent for what seems like an eternity after that. Stiles looks around and notices they’re in an old warehouse. He makes escape plans to when he releases himself and his dad. Eventually, he gets tired of waiting.

“Peter!” He uses all of his lungs’ strength to shout, calling for the psycho he didn’t kill when he had the chance for Derek’s sake.

Peter appears some time after, with a smile planted on his face, like he knows exactly when the world is going to end and wants to see everybody’s surprised face when they die.

“Good to see you, Stiles,” he muses.

“Can’t say the same about you. Weren’t you supposed to be like, far away from fucking Beacon Hills, you know, since Derek kicked you out of the pack two years ago because you tried to kill me and Allison?”

“One of my biggest mistakes. I don’t know what I would do if I had actually killed you.”

Stiles sighs. He’s so done with Peter’s bullshit.

“What do you want, Peter?” He says, sounding obviously tired.

“You know, you father is a very interesting man. We were talking about your mother-“

“Don't you dare talk about my mother!” Stiles hissed, clenching his teeth.

Peter huffs out a little laugh.

“You changed a lot since when we first met, Stiles.”

“Yes I did, Peter. Now I know how to kill you!”

“You’re not that scared little kid anymore. When we met, you were so scared of everything and you didn’t even know who your mom was… oh, wait.”

“Right. And you do know who my mom was. You know everything about my mom.”

“Tell me, Stiles,” he whispers, leaning so his face is closer to Stiles’. “Did you know your mother was a witch?”

Stiles takes a deep breath, pleading the skies for patience, because seriously, what the fuck?

“Bullshit,” he finally managed to say.

“Oh, it’s the truth. Ask your father if you want to.”

Stiles looks at his father, who just nods, a guilty expression on his face. What? His mom was a witch and no one actually thought about telling him that?

“What the…” He just stares at Peter for a while, taking everything in. Witch, okay. He can deal with that.

“And now, guess who inherited her powers?”

Peter looks suggestively at him.

What.

“What? You don’t think I have powers, do you?”

“You’re a wizard, Harry,” Peter says. And Stiles laughs. He laughs because 1) Peter was actually quoting Harry Potter, and  2) freaking powers? No way in hell.

“You got it wrong, Peter. Lydia is the one who uses magic, remember? And how do you even know lines from Harry Potter?”

Peter shrugs.

“Well, she uses it, but she wasn’t born with it. You, on the other hand…”

“If I was born with it, why don’t I know I have it? Why didn’t I ever used it?”

“Magic doesn’t always manifest, Stiles. Sometimes it stays hidden, inside you.”

Stiles may or may not have a vague memory of Lydia telling him that.

“Okay, so… is this what this shit is all about? You want to use my powers to do a spell or something? Just gimme money and I’ll do it.”

Peter scoffs.

“Oh, good thing you’re so willing to help me.”

“Just tell me what it is, Peter, and then I call Lydia and we can take care of it.”

“Oh I know how to perform it, Stiles. You see, Derek kicked me out of the pack, and I was able to find a new one.”

“Yeah, so?”

“So… They’re an omega pack. They need an alpha.”

“And…” He says slowly because he can’t see the point of all this.

“And there’s a spell that turns an omega into an alpha. Permanently.”

“Okaaaay…”

Stiles is running out of patience again. Se sighs audibly.

“There’s only one thing standing between me and that spell, Stiles.”

“Which is the fact that you don’t have magic or whatever?”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you just tell me that? You know, in a conversation where we’re both talking like normal people and you’re not kidnapping me and my father?”

“Yeah, about that. See, the spell needs to be performed by the wolf who wants to rise as an alpha. And I don’t have the power to do that.”

“So you want me to give you my magic?”

Peter nods.

“And as you’re a friend of Lydia’s I assume you know enough to know that it has to be concensual.”

Yes, he knows. Is not like Stiles is letting Peter take his powers away when he just discovered he has them. He needs to think about it and Peter better have a damn good offer to him  because this is huge. But still, he doesn’t get why Peter has to tie him and his dad to a chair to talk to him about this.

And then it clicks.

Holy shit.

The spell to take someone’s power. It kills the person.

Stiles definitely has a memory of Lydia telling him that.

“Hell. To. The. Fucking. No.” Stiles says, looking at Peter. “Now you want to kill me, for the third time, by the way, to take my powers so you can make you little werewolf dream come true? Go kill an alpha, cause that’s not happening.”

“Oh, it is, Stiles. You know why?”

Stiles doesn’t answer, just looks at his father, who was watching the entire conversation silently. He knows where this is going.

“Because if you don’t consent your powers to me,” Peter continues, looking amused. “Your father dies.”

***

His dad is bleeding. There’s blood. A lot of it. Going down his dad’s face. Stiles is sure his dad’s nose is broken. It’s too terrible for him to watch.

“Fine! I’ll do it! Just stop hurting him!” Stiles screams out eventually, not being able to look at his father when he was so beaten up. His dad is screaming for him not to do it, to just let him die, but Stiles knows that Peter killed his own niece without blinking, killing Stiles and his father will be no trouble for him. And he can’t take it anymore, watching his only family being hurt. It’s just too much. So he ignores his father’s screams and just shuts it out so he can do this, so he can die. Because if he dies to save his dad, well, he knows there’s no better way of dying.

So yes, he’s doing this.

“No, Stiles, don’t do this!” His dad says. He takes a deep breath and shuts it out again, because he knows he won’t be able to die looking at his father’s face, begging him not to go.

“If I do it, you will never again in your life place a foot in Beacon Hills or near my father. Ever. And I need to see him safe and taken care of before I do it.”

Stiles has tears on his face, and he’s angry because he doesn’t want Peter to see him like that. He’s not actually worried about dying, he’s worried about his father. Leaving his father here, alone.

“I will set him free and he will find his way to a hospital, as soon as I have your part of the spell done.”

Stiles doesn’t trust Peter. He wouldn’t trust Peter with picking up his lunch, leave alone his father’s life. But what other choice does he have?

“Okay,” he breathes out. His dad is crying. He can’t deal with this.

“Stiles, son, please,” the sheriff says, and Stiles can’t fight the sobs that come out of him. “Please, Stiles, you’re all I have. I already lost your mom.”

“Dad… I… I have to keep you alive, okay? I have to.” He whispers between sobs, and that’s all he can say. His dad keeps pleading him not to do it, “Stiles, please don’t,” he says over and over again, but Stiles shuts it down, he closes his eyes and keeps them that way as Peter unties him and drags him by the arm to somewhere not so far.

“He won’t watch it, don’t worry,” Peter says, and that’s when Stiles knows he’s safe to open his eyes.

They’re in a room, there’s some kind of altar with a pentagram drawn on it, and it’s surrounded by candles.

“So generous,” he snaps, even though he’s still crying. He can’t believe this. All Peter ever did was fuck up his life, and now Peter is going to kill him. He’s so pissed it almost overcomes his sadness for leaving his father.

Peter guides him to the edge of the altar slowly, stopping when Stiles’ feet are on the edge of the circle.

“Shall we begin?”

“Don’t you think is that easy. Give me the book you’re using,” he demands, and Peter obligues.

It’s not a difficult thing to do, it’s basically some encantations in latin and a lot of will force. Stiles figures it’s because this one is not actually forcing the magic out, the magic is just being a little pulled.

He goes through it twice, to make sure he knows everything.

The person whose magic is being taken should feel a lot of pain when the magic comes out. They might have some time before dying, if they’re strong enough. He sighs. This is so not the way he thought he was going to die.

“Let him go. I’ll do it as soon as I see that he’s out of here,” he says, sounding so weak he hates himself for talking.

“Fair enough,” Peter answers, telling someone to release the sheriff from where he is standing.

There’s a small window in the room, and he can see his dad screaming and fighting the wolves that carry him outside and close the door.

Stiles’ heart sinks. So this is how it feels. When you’re about to die. When you see you’re only family member’s face when he knows you’re about to die, when he knows he’s about to lose his son.

Stiles tries not to think about it.

But he does.

The pain his dad will feel when he gets in there again and finds Stiles’ dead body, Stiles’ eyes without that light of life, that little spark Stiles has when he looks at his dad gone. Stiles can feel it in his bones. The pain, that is. He feels it, as if he was losing his dad instead of the opposite.

And Scott. Scott is losing him too, losing his best friend. Derek is losing his boyfriend. Their pack is losing a member.

This is so messed up.

He’s crying again. Fuck.

_Stop crying,_ he tells himself. _He doesn’t deserve it._

But he’s not crying because of Peter. He’s crying because of his father, his friends. He’s crying because this is it.

He makes himself calm down and takes deep breaths.

“Okay. Let’s do this,” he says, finally, stepping on the altar. He stands in the middle of the pentagram, where he knows he’s supposed to be for this to happen.

Peter lights up the candles, one by one, knowing that all the thinking time is torture to Stiles.

Stiles feels a panic attack coming, but he does his breathing exercises and pushes it away, far away. Tries to think about happy things. When he and Scott spent friday nights playing videogames and his dad would come to them in the middle of the night and tell them to go to sleep, but smiling even though, just because it was so familiar, it was like a family thing, something they thought they had lost when Stiles’ mom died. But they never really did, and they only realized in those moments.

He is pulled out of his comfort bubble by Peter’s voice saying something in latin.

Oh fuck.

He’s going to die.

And he starts not to breathe, falls down and just stays there, head burning, gasping for air, on his knees.

Everything happens a little fast after that. His dad storms into the room, yelling, his face making it obvious that he’s crying. He shoots Peter several times. It doesn’t do a thing, of course.

“Dad, what are you doing? No, dad, get out of here!” Stiles is yelling, weak and desperate. Tries to get out of the altar but he can’t, there’s something like a wall keeping him from getting to his dad. He screams so much he thinks his lungs are going to explode when Peter lets his claws out and cuts his dad open with them, from chest to belly.

Stiles starts fighting the invisible wall, tries to use the magic he didn’t even know he possessed to break it somehow. It’s useless. All useless. Stiles is useless, and his dad will die because he’s useless.

And then Derek’s in the room, followed by two more omegas, he’s snarling, his eyes glowing red, his fangs exposed. He jumps in Peter’s direction, with his claws out, looking like he’s going to part Peter in two. A wild noise escapes Peter’s mouth and the other two omegas try to hold Derek down. But the effort is proved inefficient when Derek pulls them both and they fall down, each one by one of Peter’s side.

Peter attacks, claws seeking for Derek’s throat, and they start fighting, claws and teeth and snarls, and wild noises Stiles never heard Derek do before.

The two other omegas get into the fight even though they’re not healed yet, and Derek is fighting against three, and why the fuck isn’t anyone else coming? His dad is dying and no one is coming!

Stiles continues punching the invisible wall keeping him away from his father and he just wants to break it so bad.

Everything is loud around him. Werewolves are fucking loud. He can hear more sounds coming from outside the room he’s in, e he leans against the force keeping him on the altar, sighing in defeat. Only then he realizes that the panic attack didn’t fully reach him. He doesn’t give a fuck.

Suddenly, the force is gone, and he collapses on the ground. He looks at Derek, still fighting one omega, but the other one and Peter are dead. Another omega gets in the room, and when he rushes toward the fight between Derek and the las omega alive, he crawls as fast as he can to his father, sitting down with the sheriff’s head on his lap.

“Dad! You’re with me, dad? Talk to me!”

“Stiles,” his dad almost doesn’t say it, his voice broken, weak. It makes Stiles’ gut twist.

“You’re going to be fine, dad. Derek’s here.”

“I don’t think I’ll be fine, son,” his dad says with difficulty again. Stiles is crying so much he is surprised he isn’t dehydrated. The sheriff is gasping, almost not breathing. He holds Stiles’ hand as if Stiles was precious.

Stiles isn’t precious, Stiles isn’t worth his dad’s life.

“You will, dad, just stay with me, stay with me!” He cries out, desperate.

He starts asking his dad things. Like when was the last time they had dinner together, the last time he had a conversation with Melissa. He asks just to keep his dad awake.

His dad answers almost nothing, and answers vaguely, life fading away from him every second, and Stiles can see it, can feel it from the hand his dad is holding, the grip going loose.

“Please dad, stay with me. Please,” he says, and cries with his dad’s head on his lap. He feels it, when his dad gives up the last of his energy, gives in to the darkness. Stiles screams as loud as he can, just to let it out. The pain he feels. Is wordless. Is just screams, wild broken sounds coming out of his mouth. He thinks he hears Derek howling again, but can’t find it in himself to look at Derek. If Derek’s dying too he won’t be able to take it.

So he stays there. And cries.

Just about a minute later, someone lands a hand on his shoulder.

“Stiles,” Derek says.

“Bite him, Derek,” Stiles says between sobs.

“It’s too late, Stiles.”

“No! No no no no. It’s not. He will heal, just bite him!”

“Stiles-“

“No, Derek! Save him, please, Derek, please!”

Derek just grabs him by the arm and drags Stiles out of the room. He struggles to get out of Derek’s hold, to go back to his father, but obviously, Derek is stronger and  does a good job blocking the way. Stiles screams for his dad, pleads Derek to bite him, but Derek just stands there, holding him. Eventually, he gives it up, holds Derek and cries for his father. There’s nothing he can do.

Derek holds him, tells him is gonna be okay, but he knows it’s a lie. His dad is gone, nothing will be okay.

He lets Derek carry him out, sees Isaac going into the room over Derek’s shoulder, and sees Scott getting there, just before he feels suddenly tired. His eyes start shutting against his will and he catches a glimpse of Scott’s eyes streaming tears. After that, everything’s black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS:   
> Someone dies!  
> It's ulgy!  
> It's bad!  
> I'm heartless!   
> Also, This was written a long time ago, and I like to think my writing not just in english but in general have improved since then, and I promisse I will try my best to deliver more well-written chapters. Thank you for reading!  
> Again, I'm sassyashale on tumblr and I will answer any questions you might have.

**Author's Note:**

> So, uh, let me know what you think about this and if it's a good idea to post chapter two?  
> I'm on [Tumblr](http://sassyashale.tumblr.com/) to answer any questions you might have and feel free to point out any mistakes, I'm still new on this whole writing in english thing so remember to be kind to me (and to anyone really, we all make mistakes).


End file.
